A Broken Man
by Swift Talon
Summary: Fallen at last into Medusa's clutches, Dr Stein finds himself looking back upon his past entanglements with his most bitter enemy, the one witch who, at the last, proved powerful enough to ensnare him.
1. Opening

__

_Well, basically what I'm looking at doing here is turning this story into a look, in flashback, at Stein and Medusa's relationship throughout the series, largely from scenes of my own devising, though also containing my impressions of some of the more important events. This is going to be based mostly upon the anime storyline, though I may chop and change scenes from the manga where necessary. Anyway, hope you enjoy it, and please, as this is my first attempt at writing something on this site, give what comments you can on the story, my writing style or the direction I'm choosing to take it. _

How long did it take for a life to fall apart completely? For everything a man once thought he was to be taken from him? For the carefully balanced pieces that formed the elusive state of mind he knew as sanity to collapse beneath the pressure exerted by the shattered mind they hid? Even as he saw, even as he lived it; stood back and watched the ruin his own mistakes, his own desires had formed of the life he once thought secure, Dr Stein found he could supply no answer, no answer to the questions breaking against his fogged mind like waves against a shore of arid sand.

He stirred uncomfortably beneath the folds of the white lab-coat draped over his shoulders, the insipid rustle of fabric disturbing the still air, heavy with the odd scent of the two candles burning at the centre of the room. His weary gaze traced the shadowed walls of dark stone surrounding him, the high, vaulted ceiling above, his prison, his nightmare...his home now. A fortress, a refuge, hers, he didn't know where, he scarcely even remembered how he had come to be here, memories lost in the mist clinging to his exhausted mind, hiding, obscuring everything.

For a moment he tried to stay the inevitable, tried to keep his wandering gaze from settling on the one place he knew it would be drawn so inexorably to, as though by ignoring the truth he could somehow undo it. But he was so weak now, he couldn't resist the pull she exerted on him, not even for that one moment. Medusa...witch...his greatest enemy...his greatest mistake, she sat there, her legs crossed, at the room's centre, leaning in over the sphere of cloudy glass, pulsing with a deep, purple light, set within a stand of gleaming gold before her.

She was a child now, the soul of the woman who had broken him within the body of a young girl. He supposed he might say that it had changed her, physically certainly, she looked little like she had before, she had a child's features now, soft, unformed, wide-eyed, her cheeks pale and freckled, where her face had once possessed such an enticing sharpness. Her hair however was the same golden-blonde, cut to the same style, fairly short, arranged so that it hung loosely over her forehead and neck, with two longer strands coming down from either side of her fringe to frame her face. She wore a robe of silken black, sleeveless and high across the neck, cut short over her legs, so thin now, she had been slender before, but in this body she seemed even more so, so thin he felt he could almost reach out and snap her with ease, but thoughts of violence against her...once so intense, had dulled like a blade used far past its time. After all, he could not hurt her, she was all he had left now, the sole remaining thing now that he had lost all else. She had been so beautiful, so enticing once, the memory was enough to twist a knife of anguish across his weary mind.

But it was not her beauty that had drawn him first, like a moth to a flame. It had played its part, yes, silken, veiled promises whispered as they fought in the catacombs beneath Shibusen, stirring such an intensity of feeling, of dry-mouthed desire as he thought he never could experience, but her mind, it had been the thing that had attracted him all the more, and that mind remained...within this body. He slumped against the cold, unforgiving stone against his back, unable to draw his gaze from her...

Despite the intensity of his stare upon her, she scarcely seemed to notice his presence, so focused was she on whatever she sought so avidly within the clouded heart of the crystal before her, but Stein found himself wavering, unsure, despite everything, despite what she was, what she had done to him, whether her distraction represented a blessing or a curse.

How he despised it, despised himself, when she turned her attention to him, when her amber-hued eyes, wide, soft, framed by curling lashes, but with a darker gleam at their core, a gleam of satisfaction, of fierce, possessive triumph as she surveyed him, unlike anything a child's eyes could ever, should ever display, fell upon his...pierced into him, struck him to his very heart with a turmoil of confused emotion, hatred, disgust, longing, when she drew closer, ran her small, soft hands over his face, tracing the line of the stark, stitched scar that curled down from his forehead and over his haggard cheek with her fingers, leant over him, whispered in his ear, told him...that he was hers...but even as the words sickened him, as painful shudders of loathing passed across his shoulders, he understood that what she said was true. He was hers, what else was he now? He had left everything else behind, she was all there was now. It didn't make any sense to him, nothing did about her, how he felt for her, but even as he despised, hated what she did to him, he knew that disgust was only a part of what he felt, that deeper than that, sunken in the depths of his bitter soul, he longed for it, longed for her touch, her voice, her gaze, he felt empty without it, empty now, when she sat apart from him, her focus elsewhere.

He shrank back against the unyielding stone, drawing his legs up against his chest, clutching weakly at his knees with pale, quivering hands, how...had this happened to him? There had been a time when he had been known as the most powerful technician ever to graduate from the Shibusen Academy, dedicated himself to the service of Shinigami, God of Death, fought for a cause utterly opposed to her and all her kind, a cause she had done more than anyone to destroy.

But now...what was he? A traitor, to all of them, his comrades, his friends, to the God he had once served so diligently, a broken remnant of a man entirely dependant on her attentions, the attentions of a witch. And still he struggled to understand how it had come to this, how she had slipped beneath his defences, wrapped his weary mind, already exhausted by the long struggle against the insanity she had unleashed upon this world, in her coils, drawn him nearer and nearer until now, she had taken everything from him. Could he have resisted, once it had begun? Should he have? Would this all have happened still...would he have lost himself, seen his sanity slip through his clenched fingers like grains of sand, had he never returned to Shibusen after almost a decade of solitude, had he never met her? Lying back, he wondered, the bitter weight of remembrance rising at his urgings, a time long past, one it seemed as though he had almost forgotten.

The memories were distant, clouded...as though he viewed them through a veil of mist, as though they were the events of years ago, rather than the few short months he knew had passed since it had begun, but still he remembered that night well, he knew in his heart that even if he lost all else, he would never forget it...the night when their paths had first intertwined, when he had first stared into those golden eyes and wondered, feeling the cold touch of fate upon his shoulders...though he had never begun to suspect where she would lead him...what she would do to him before it was done. His head slumped back against the wall, his tortured gaze at last leaving her, drifting up to the high, vaulted ceiling of the room, clouding over with the mists of dark memory, his mind wandering back to a time when all had seemed safe, secure...when he could never have believed what his own future would hold...


	2. Chapter 1

_Sorry about the long wait for this update, it took a while for me to be happy with what I'd written. _

_Thanks to AliceMeidou for the review of the previous chapter (my first), but for everyone else, any comments, complaints or compliments would be very much appreciated. Anyway, this is just my view of Medusa and Dr Stein's first meeting, which I've placed just after he first becomes an instructor at the end of episode 5.  
_

It was not without a great deal of confusion that Dr Stein found himself the newest member of the Shibusen Academy's teaching staff, a position he had resolutely refused almost eighteen years ago now, when he had first graduated, acclaimed as the most powerful technician of his generation, possibly even in the history of the Academy. Back then, he'd known for sure that teaching the young technicians and weapons who came to the Academy, drawn by its fame as the foremost training facility of its kind in the world, as well as the promise of safety and the opportunity to use their unique gifts for the greater good it provided, was not a path he wanted to tread.

For a start he was a scientist. That was his calling, the advancement of the combined knowledge of mankind, not dealing with a gaggle of hormonal adolescents with neither the skill nor the dedication to match the standards he expected of them. In addition, he had always been aware that he himself was not an entirely stable individual, at least when compared with others he had observed over the years, a fact that had been highlighted all too well in the unfortunate circumstances under which he and his weapon partner, Spirit Albarn, now the Death Scythe currently stationed here at the Academy, had parted ways. To instruct, he had told himself then, was to put the students in his charge in danger, how long would it be before he lost patience with one of them and decided the child would prove far more worth as an experimental specimen rather than a member of his class?

But that had all been before the events of the previous night, when Shinigami himself had ordered Stein to assist in the training of some of the Academy's most promising students. Maka Albarn, Soul Eater Evans, Black Star and Tsubaki, the memory was enough to bring a thin smile to his pale lips, it had been a very long time indeed since he had enjoyed himself so much. Toying with those youngsters, repeatedly crushing every pitiful attempt they brought to bear against him, it was an experience he had relished, not to mention the fact that it had proven surprisingly successful. Maka Albarn, the daughter of his former partner no less, had discovered her gift for Soul Perception, an ability Stein shared, and one that would hold her in good stead in the future, as well as finally sorting out the Witch Hunting resonance with her partner. And as for Black Star...well...though there had been less obvious gains in that regard, perhaps the utter ease with which Stein had defeated him would give the boy some much needed understanding of how weak he truly was. And most telling of all, not one of the students had been permanently damaged, he had been able to restrain himself. So, as soon as it was over, when Shinigami had, to his surprise, requested that he take over the position of the recently indisposed instructor Sid Barrett, teaching the class to which Maka and Black Star belonged, he had found himself agreeing without question.

Now that his first day was done however, and he had got the chance to evaluate somewhat the students in his care, as well as the responsibilities an instructor's position entailed, he was surprised to discover he had taken a certain measure of enjoyment from the entire experience, an outcome he certainly never would have anticipated before. He…liked it, teaching these youngsters, showing them how to use their unique gifts to the full, unlocking what surprising reservoirs of potential they possessed. It would be a uniquely fascinating experience, seeing where that potential took them in the years ahead.

But that was all over now; the students had left the Academy for their apartments in Death City as evening had descended over the clear Nevada sky, but Stein found himself strangely reluctant to follow suit. It had been so long since he had left the Academy, eighteen years spent in the isolation of his laboratory, and it seemed somehow a wasted opportunity to leave so soon, to not spend at least a little more time wandering the warren of corridors, familiarising himself once more with the building in which he had spent much of his formative years. So he wandered, deep in thought, his olive-green gaze tracing the familiar passages and doorways of the first true home he had ever known, slowly reviewing the memories he retained of this place. Nostalgia, it was an unfamiliar emotion to a man like him, a man always focused on the present, on what he could learn from his immediate environment, rather than from misty reminiscences of a time long past, but somehow he found himself wondering just how things had turned out as they had. He'd come to the Academy young, unusually so, barely eleven years old, but already powerful enough to match, and indeed exceed, the exacting standards the Academy had expected of him.

But not for him the moral obligation or hunger to succeed that had driven those others he had observed during his time there; no…curiosity had been his motivation. He had wanted to understand it, the power he felt growing within him, and if that meant pushing his body to the limits of what it could endure, what amounted to essentially torturing himself to gain in strength, in mastery of the skills of a technician, than so be it, he had done so without question. Yes, he had been young then, young and bitter and powerful, with a cool disregard for those around him, such indifference that he could stoop to nocturnal experimentation on his own weapon partner, the very person he should have been closest to, could contemplate dissecting his classmates without a whisper of protest from the inherent morality that every human supposedly possessed. He had been a true scientist even then, he smiled thinly, humourlessly, his tread quickening over the tiled floor beneath his feet.

But could he have changed things...could he have somehow prevented the dark circumstances under which he had left the Academy behind all those years ago, which had led him to retreat into the solitude of his laboratory, leaving all those who, despite everything, had shown him some small kindness over his time here, to think back on him only with disgust? He didn't know...it was not a question he had considered before this moment, but it was one for which even he could supply no answer...

So deep was he in thought that, as he approached the end of the corridor, he did not even see the young woman who stepped out into his path, did not pause, or even slow down, somehow he managed to walk straight into her, his chest slamming into her shoulder, knocking her backwards. He stumbled, clutching at the wall of the corridor for support…how could he have been so utterly preoccupied? Thankfully it seemed she had also been able to catch herself against the wall before she fell, but he hurried over to her regardless, it had been his fault after all.

"Damn, I'm sorry about that." He said hurriedly, quickly looking her up and down. "Are you alright?" She did not seem to hear him for a moment, her eyes lowered to stare at the floor before her, a wince of pain momentarily sharpening her features, but as her gaze flickered up to meet his, Stein felt himself pause, felt the breath catch in his throat, suddenly certain he had never met this woman in his life, unusual indeed considering that most of the Academy staff had been his classmates at one time or another.

She…was striking, he had no doubt he would have remembered any previous encounter, no matter how brief or how long ago, something in her pale features at once drew his gaze, her eyes perhaps, they were certainly noticeable enough, gleaming almost bright gold beneath the harsh light of the Academy corridor, the pupils dark, and she met his gaze with a cool, level stare that fascinated him all the more; it seemed somehow to suggest that she were studying him as keenly as he did her. Her hair was golden-blonde, arranged in an unusual style, cut fairly short over her neck and shoulders, but with two longer strands that cascaded down from either side of her fringe to meet and intertwine over her chest, framing her face in a manner that drew attention to those enthralling eyes. She was lithe and slender, a fact emphasised by the thin, form-fitting dress she wore, sleek and black, marked out with an unusual design, two white arrows crossing over her waist, beneath a long, white hospital coat similar to his, except far better-kept and without the stitches decorating every seam, and though she stood only up to about Stein's shoulder, the self-assured poise with which she stood, as well as the piercing stare with which she met his gaze, somehow seemed to render the fact irrelevant, so much so that he felt for a moment like she were the one looking down upon him.

At last however, she seemed satisfied, whatever it was she had sought in studying him on intently, and as she lowered her gaze, Stein felt a momentary shiver pass across his shoulders, focus returning once more to his thoughts, and with it a great deal of confusion. What...had just happened to him? This...he had never felt like this before, never been so affected by nothing more than the sight of another...

"It was my fault..." She smiled kindly, apologetically, and Stein's gaze narrowed. Something about that smile seemed...wrong, at odds with what he had just observed in her. He struggled for a moment to gain a purchase on the thought, to quantify it, to identify what about her made something as innocuous as a smile seem amiss, but it slipped from his grasp. "Don't worry about it, I'm fine." She glanced back up at him, though this time her gaze seemed open and warm, like that of anyone else, what he had seen before, that moment of cold, analytical study, gone as though it had never existed, as though he had merely imagined it. "Wait, I do know you" She continued suddenly, scattering his thoughts. "You're the new instructor, right? The one I've heard so much about."

"Yes...that would be me." He replied quickly, evenly, forcing a measure of composure into his voice, refusing to let even a hint of the turmoil boiling within him show. "The new instructor."

"And do you happen to have a name, or does just 'the new instructor' usually suffice?" She raised an eyebrow, her gaze twinkling with amusement. Damn...his thoughts still weren't in order, it seemed to take an age to even construct a reply...and she stared at him all the while, a hint of teasing mockery in her amber eyes. Who...was this woman? She was toying with him, he had never felt this unsure in his life.

"I'm...that is, my name is Dr Franken Stein." He managed to gasp, quickly reaching up with one hand to adjust his glasses nervously.

"Medusa Gorgon." She raised a hand to her lips as she spoke, and he found himself noting that her nails were painted black...since when did he care what colour a woman's nails were painted? Or for that matter, the delicate timbre of her voice, the careful, refined manner in which she spoke? But each suddenly seemed as important an observation as any in the experiments he had undertaken over the years. "The Academy nurse, if you were wondering."

"Medusa..." He murmured her name, scarcely aware that he spoke aloud, running a hand through his silver hair thoughtfully. So she did work here...and in the Infirmary no less. Somehow, despite the uniform, it was not exactly what he had been expecting. Shaking his head, he glanced back down at her, forcing a weak smile, distinctly aware that she had been staring curiously at him the whole time.

"Is there something wrong, Dr Stein? You're looking rather flushed." She noted rather suddenly, and he started...was his discomfort really so obvious? "Perhaps you should come by my office sometime, I'm sure there must be...some way I could help you out with that."

"No…I'm fine." He shook his head quickly, one hand clutching at the hem of his lab-coat. Something about the way she had said that, the smile she now gave him, her head leant slightly to one side, her lips curled, her gaze gleaming with amusement, suddenly struck him as decidedly alarming. What exactly was she planning? Damn it…he couldn't think straight, not with her staring at him all the while, those gold-gleaming eyes fixed upon his. "I…can't anyway; I have work to do." Yes, at last, he had to make his excuses, get away to somewhere he could collect his thoughts.

"Such a shame…" She murmured, drawing out every word, slowly running her hand along the golden strand of hair that fell from her fringe as she spoke. "Well, I'll be waiting, if you do ever decide differently" She laughed softly, and Stein felt a shiver of cold anticipation run across his shoulders, suddenly feeling a disturbing desire to take her up on that offer, preferably right now.

"No, Medusa..." he straightened, taking a deep breath, forcing some measure of composure into his voice. "I...shouldn't keep you here any longer, I'm sure you have important duties awaiting you back at the Infirmary."

"I shall be the judge of what is important to me, Stein" She replied, her voice low and sultry, sending shivers running down his spine. "But...if you insist." She drew back, slipping her hands easily into the pockets of her white coat. "We shall see, perhaps next time I will be able enjoy your company a little longer." Giving him one last smile of coy amusement, she stepped delicately forward, slipping past him and back down the corridor from which he had come, her light, precise footsteps echoing out from the tiles.

Stein turned slowly, his gaze following her down the hall, his olive-green eyes narrowing intently beneath the gleam of his glasses, as he raised one hand to the inside pocket of his lab-coat, searching momentarily, before plucking a cigarette from the packet stored within. He slipped it between his teeth, seizing at the lighter with his other hand, flicking it open to let the flame touch for a moment the end of the cigarette.

As soon as it was lit, he breathed deeply, letting the acrid smoke fill his lungs...damn...he really wanted to go after her right now. What was this...need he could feel boiling just within him, this raw anticipation, searing through his normally iron self-control, willing him to stagger to her side even now? He could still feel his heart pounding in his chest, the cold sweat on his brow, his stomach heaving sickeningly, he had never felt like this before, would have ascribed it somehow to fear, where it not for one other fact of which he was suddenly, acutely aware. The exhilaration, pounding through his veins, he had...for some inconceivable reason, actually enjoyed every moment. Enjoyed having his thoughts thrown into turmoil, being essentially toyed with by her, used for whatever pleasure she derived from his discomfort...and he didn't have the slightest idea why.

He sighed heavily, the smoke of his cigarette curling upwards from between his lips to collect beneath the stark white ceiling of the corridor, in all his life, no-one had ever sparked such a reaction in him, in fact he prided himself on his ability to keep his composure, to disconnect himself from those around him, preventing outbursts of unstable emotion of this very nature. So what exactly was different about her? He wanted to know...an almost irresistible compulsion to discover just who she was, why she affected him so profoundly. He smiled thinly, his lips curling around the cigarette clenched between his teeth, there was only one source of which he was aware who might possess the information he required. Perhaps it was time to pay Spirit Albarn, his former partner and experimental subject, a visit...


	3. Chapter 2

_Once again, apologies for the long wait, it took me some time to get everything I wanted down. _

_Thanks to Alice Meidou for another encouraging review, and to Wall of Illusion likewise.  
_

_Anyway, although this is a Stein/Medusa story, some of the other characters are going to be showing up in several chapters, this one among them. In short, this is Stein seeking Spirit's advice about Medusa, but I decided that this would be the first time they'd spoken since Spirit found out about Stein dissecting him in his sleep, so things are obviously still a little tense. Tell me what you think about the dynamic between the two of them, and any other thoughts you might have on the story.  
_

Stein had always regarded his former partner, Spirit Albarn, as something of a mystery, a puzzle, which though he worked often at attempting to fit together in terms he could understand, never seemed to quite make sense. Still, over the course of their five-year partnership, Stein had begun to feel a certain measure of respect for his partner; he had been able to talk to Spirit, in a manner he had never experienced before, because he had known the weapon would at least try to understand, would not immediately run to fetch those in so-called positions of authority to place moral judgement upon him. So Stein had begun to try as well, to try and restrain himself, try to listen when Spirit told him to stop there, but it had all been…so hard. In the end however, despite his bitter struggles, temptation had won out…he had done what he had sworn to himself not to. It had sickened him every time, even as he drew out the scalpel to begin another night's experimentation on his weapon, betraying his partner's trust, going against everything Spirit had taught him, but the compulsion had just been too strong to resist, he had done it regardless.

Of course Spirit had eventually found out, alerted by the woman who would later become his wife, Kami, then also a technician training at the Academy but one had yet to find a weapon able to resonate with her. He had been horrified, furious...Stein had tried to explain, tried to make excuses, but his weapon had refused to listen. The scythe, his scythe, had stormed away, bitterly angry, bitterly disappointed. He had joined Kami, become her weapon, stating unequivocally that he never wanted to lay eyes upon his former technician ever again. That had been eighteen years ago, and the two of them had never spoken since. Stein had left the Academy soon afterwards, refusing to take another weapon, aware now that he could not trust himself, whereas Spirit had married Kami and been made a Death Scythe in her hands.

So it was that Stein found himself not without a measure of apprehension as he waited expectantly at the doorway of the large marble house near the centre of Death City that Spirit had acquired along with his status as the only Death Scythe stationed at Shibusen. How would Spirit react once he realised just who it was who had knocked upon his door at this late hour? Would he still be angry about what had happened? In fact, was this really a good idea at all?

It had seemed so but a few short hours ago, when Medusa had left him in the corridors of Shibusen, his heart pounding in his chest, his thoughts still in turmoil. Spirit must have been at the Academy when she arrived, he had reasoned then, the Death Scythe should at least know a little more about this enigmatic woman...information he now needed. And the scythe could not have missed her, Stein was distinctly aware of that. Even back when they had been partners Spirit had seemed singularly obsessed with gaining the attentions of the opposite sex, to the exclusion of all else, so he too would have wanted to find out all he could about Medusa, she was far too striking a woman for him to simply ignore.

Stein shook his head, struggling to clear it, struggling to focus on the task at hand. That thought had brought with it an unsettling edge of cold anger, the mere idea of Spirit having designs on Medusa enough to bring with it a spark of fury, as unfamiliar to him as the burning anticipation he had felt upon first seeing her. Once again she had intruded upon his normally iron self control, her ability to do so undiminished even when she was not present, it seemed.

He slipped a hand with obvious frustration from the pocket of his lab-coat, raising it to the cold steel bolt embedded in the side of his skull, a screw of dark metal, driven right through his head with no apparent ill effects. An old experiment…conceived in years of unrelenting solitude, calibrated precisely to sharpen his thoughts, to focus his attention when it wandered down dangerous paths…exactly as it was now. Frowning thoughtfully, he clutched at the cool metal, rotating it hard, letting it ease somewhat the resentment he still felt simmering within him, the strange, inexplicable longing that thoughts of her had brought him…

It was at that moment that the door before him suddenly swung open hard, slamming into the stone wall beside it, and Spirit Albarn stepped purposefully into the doorway, his brow furrowed in confusion, his light blue eyes hard-edged with obvious irritation. It had indeed been rather a long time, but at first glance it seemed to Stein that his former partner had changed little over those eighteen years since they had parted ways. He still possessed that rakish, youthful look that had earned him so many admirers then, his long, dark-red hair carefully arranged into that same style of casual disorder as it had always been. His fondness for very formal attire remained intact as well, for he was wearing a neatly pressed black suit over a shirt of a lighter grey, a black tie of an odd design, almost cruciform in shape, hanging over his chest. Still, Stein found himself noting as Spirit's gaze flickered up to meet his, something had changed in his former partner. The scythe stood taller, more confident, more commanding, than he had before, his eyes keener, harder, no doubt the mark of the new power he had gained as a Death Scythe, as well as what hardships he must have endured to get there.

It took a moment for Spirit's gaze to focus on Stein, for him to realise just who it was who stood in his doorway, but even as he did that new confidence Stein had observed at once seemed to melt away. The scythe staggered back, clutching at the doorframe for support, his eyes snapping wider with horror...

"You..." He gasped, paling rather dramatically, as Stein glanced over him impassively.

"Spirit, it has been a while, hasn't it?" Stein murmured coolly, continuing to rotate the bolt through his skull with a thoughtful precision. At once a crack of unleashed energy rang out through the still night air, a blinding flash of white light searing over Spirit's arm as he slammed it upwards between him and Stein.

"Get back..." Spirit hissed, as the harsh glow faded, revealing a long, gleaming blade of dark metal, wickedly sharp edges curving to a thin point, where his arm had once been. "I'm warning you, Stein..." Stein raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to gaze thoughtfully over the length of the blade...weapon transformation, whether in whole or in part it was a subject that never failed to rouse his interest.

"Come now Spirit" he raised his hands soothingly, though he found a thin smile working its way onto his pale lips at the thinly veiled fear so obvious now in his former partner's quivering gaze. No matter how much he might respect the scythe, how much he regretted what had happened between them, it seemed some things could not be changed. He had always been both fascinated and entertained whenever Spirit displayed such terror because of him; that was why he had so often tried to spark this very reaction when they had been partners, to test out just how far he could go before his weapon snapped. "There really is no need for anything like that" He nodded vaguely to the black blade, certain that Spirit knew as well as he did that not even the powerful abilities of a Death Scythe would be enough if his intentions truly were less than friendly.

"How about you tell me what the hell you're doing here first?!" Spirit snarled, brandishing the blade wildly, though he was shaking so much he could scarcely hold it upright.

"Do I really need a reason to pay a visit to my old partner?" Stein replied, smirking coldly, the silver moonlight gleaming momentarily over the round rims of his glasses. Spirit stepped back, glancing behind him hurriedly as though debating whether to make a run for it.

"That's enough, Stein" He shook his head, his gaze snapping back upwards to meet Stein's as he seemed at last to regain a measure of his composure. "Don't give me any more of that. Don't think that I don't know exactly what you are..." His gaze hardened, boring coldly into Stein's.

"And what is that, Spirit?" Stein leant casually back. "What exactly am I? Enlighten me...please..." A flicker of bitter anger rose in him there, old hurt, but he kept it hidden well, meeting Spirit's stare levelly. The two of them gazed at each other over the threshold for a moment, the tension palpable. Spirit was silent, his shoulders shaking, but he kept his gaze levelled with all the strength he could muster, Stein a tall, cold shadow, his olive-green stare hidden beneath the moonlight gleaming off his glasses. This wasn't going the way he'd wanted it to, Spirit was being too confrontational, the scythe's anger and fear rousing his own bitterness nurtured over years of solitude...

At last however, Spirit lowered his stare slowly, his gaze falling on the stone cobbles of the road on which Stein stood. He sighed deeply, the hard edge of anger in his light blue eyes easing somewhat, to be replaced by something deeper...resignation, or perhaps regret.

"Alright Stein..." He breathed. "I can see we're both still raw about what...happened. But, look, this isn't getting the two of us anywhere, and neither was me staying as far away from you as I could. So how about you just tell me what you're really here for, alright?" Stein gazed at him, momentarily taken aback by this sudden change in the scythe's demeanour, as well as the obvious sympathy Spirit seemed now to feel for him.

"I came because...I need your help, Spirit." He admitted slowly, one hand wandering absently to the inside pocket of his lab-coat, to the packet of cigarettes he always kept there.

"You need my help?" Spirit looked scarcely to believe it, as Stein lifted a cigarette absently to his lips, moving the lighter's flickering flame swiftly beneath it. "What...happened, Stein?" The scythe lowered the black blade to his waist, letting it vanish beneath another blinding flash of white light, replaced once again by his suited arm. "What did you do...this time?"

"No, it's nothing like that." Stein shook his head, knowing at once what was in Spirit's thoughts. Back when they had been partners, it had often fallen on his weapon to try and explain his...indiscretions. Though he had not appreciated it then, it had likely been thanks to Spirit that he had not been thrown out of the Academy over what he had tried to do to his classmates and instructors.

"Glad to hear it." Spirit sighed, his relief clear. "I still have nightmares about the last time, you know. But...if not that, then what do you need me for?" Stein paused, his lips curling thoughtfully around the glowing cigarette, suddenly feeling a strange, unfounded reluctance to relate the circumstances which had brought him here.

"There's someone I met..." He began slowly, casting aside his apparent misgivings. He had to know more about her, about Medusa, everything he was, every fibre of his being demanded it, and Spirit was the only one he knew who might possess the information he required. "I...need to know all you do about her, its important Spirit."

"Someone you met?" Spirit rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully, looking rather surprised. "What do you mean?" Stein could certainly understand his former partner's confusion; before Medusa he had never felt such an interest in anyone, never enough to seek Spirit's advice about them. In fact, in stark contrast to the scythe, he had been almost totally indifferent to all those around him back when they had been training.

"The nurse, Medusa Gorgon." Stein explained hurriedly. "What do you know about her?" He could feel the anticipation building now within him, the need which he had felt as she stood before him, to understand her, to know her. She represented a new mystery that, as a scientist, he could not ignore, and what Spirit knew could be the first step to the information he needed.

"Medusa?" Spirit stared at him for a moment, his blue eyes widening with shock. "Why her? What exactly is going on here, Stein?"

"Just tell me, Spirit, whatever you know." Stein replied, a little sharper than he'd intended.

"Okay, okay, if you insist." Spirit shook his head, rubbing his arm nervously. "Medusa…I don't really know all that much about her, though God knows it's not from lack of trying. Sure she's stunning, I've never seen anyone look better in a uniform, but try and tell her so and I swear she gives you the coldest look imaginable, makes me shiver just thinking about it. But after that, suddenly she's smiling again, asking you if you're alright, kind and gentle to a fault. No, I don't get that woman at all…" Stein found himself momentarily wondering if Spirit was entirely aware who exactly he was talking to, the scythe certainly didn't look all that focused on his surroundings right now. But at least he was saying something, and Stein found it strangely at odds with what he had observed himself about Medusa. When she had stared at him it had certainly been jarring, but he could never have described the look in her enthralling golden eyes as…cold. More the exact opposite, but what precisely did that mean? If she despised Spirit's attentions so much, why would she turn her own upon him of all people?

"And Spirit," He put in, deciding that it was time to turn the Death Scythe's thoughts in a more useful direction. "Did you…ever notice anything different about her?"

"Different?" Spirit frowned. "You mean aside from the fact that, for whatever reason, she thinks she's too good for the only Death Scythe in Shibusen?"

"I can't imagine why anyone would think that." Stein observed dryly. "But yes, that is what I meant."

"Not really, no." Spirit shrugged, tossing his long, red hair. "Why do you ask, did something happen?"

"Not exactly." Stein murmured, deciding it was probably best to keep the exact nature of his conversation with Medusa to himself. "I was just...curious" His one hand wandered absently up to the bolt through his skull as he spoke, rotated it slowly, his thoughts drifting. Just simple curiosity, no harm could come of that, could it? Spirit had told him something at least, even if this had not been as successful as he had hoped, but still he needed to find out more. Despite the Death Scythe's blithe dismissal, he was certain to the core that there was something different about Medusa, something that had drawn him in from the start, and he meant to find out what exactly it was. That would be enough...he could stop there, once he understood where things stood a little better.

"Stein?" Spirit glanced up at him, looking momentarily concerned. "Are you sure everything's alright? This...is all a little strange, you coming here after eighteen years, then asking about Medusa of all people." Stein shook his head, lowering his hand, his gaze falling once more upon his former partner

"I'm fine, Spirit." He replied smoothly, though inwardly he wondered...

"Okay then," Spirit did not look entirely convinced, but seemed willing to let it go. "Well...if that's all?" He stepped back expectantly, glancing into the well-lit interior of his home.

"It is." Stein said firmly; he too felt a measure of impatience, an eagerness to be on his way once more. The Patchwork Laboratory, he needed to return home, to where he could think, consider everything he had learned so far.

"Then...I guess this is goodbye." Spirit rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "One more thing" Stein paused in the midst of turning to leave, glancing back at the Death Scythe as Spirit smiled weakly, clutching at the collar of his suit. "Don't stay away for so long this time, alright. You had me a little worried, despite everything."

Nodding tightly to his former partner, the ghost of a smile on his thin lips, Stein stepped away from the doorway and back onto the cobbled street, feeling a momentary, and largely unanticipated, warmth at Spirit's concern. It...was good to see things how easily the two of them had slipped back into the rhythm of their partnership once things had cooled a little. It was almost as though the dark circumstances under which they had parted ways, and the intervening eighteen years, had never truly happened. There was that, even if he hadn't found as much as he had hoped about Medusa. Perhaps he should have pushed Spirit a little harder on the subject, even though that had not quite seemed right, despite all the curiosity he felt boiling within him. No...he would have to wait a little longer, consider what he did know in greater depth, at least until tomorrow. Then, he resolved silently to himself, it would be time for him to seek her out himself....


	4. Chapter 3

_Sorry this chapter's taken so very long to be published, I've been kind of swamped the last few weeks. I'll try harder with the next one, I promise. _

_Thanks to everyone new who reviewed over my brief period of inactivity, so that's BlackLioness and ToastWeaselofDoom, and also Alice Meidou and Wall of Illusion for continuing support. _

_So...here is the next chapter, such as it is, hope you enjoy it!_

From the moment their gazes met, over the stark marble floor of one among the many warren-like corridors within the Academy, a part of Stein understood that this was not going to go the way he had planned it. Medusa, walking down the passageway just across from him with such delicate poise, paused then, gazing at him momentarily with a cool precision that had sent shivers of raw anticipation running down his spine. Then...she smiled to herself, a small, secret smile, as though by seeing him she confirmed some lingering suspicion, and one that pleased her greatly. Of course he went over, drawn in by that persistent curiosity he had felt from the first, meaning to study her a few moments longer, but even then he felt a flicker of unease in the face of her obvious self-assurance, her inscrutable motivations towards him. Perhaps he should have taken that unfounded reluctance, so unfamiliar an emotion to a man like him, as a warning, but instead he thrust it impatiently aside. Now was not the time; he had been waiting far too long for this to be put off by mere feelings.

"Dr Stein…" She smiled sweetly at him, her golden gaze glinting with something akin to amusement as he stepped purposefully up to her. "I was hoping we'd have another chance to talk…"

"Really…" He halted somewhat awkwardly before her, the lenses of his glasses gleaming as he met her level stare. And there…that was it. In that one moment, as he let himself drink in the fascinating gleam of her amber eyes, for just that one instant, all of it evaporated. The precise, carefully constructed plan he had been meaning to pursue, every question, every line of inquiry, every damned logical thought in his mind, slipping away from his grasp like smoke between his she knew…he didn't understand from where that absolute certainty came; nothing seemed to change in the teasing smile upon her lips, nor in her level stare, boring coolly into his own, but she knew of the effect she had upon him. He was as sure of that as he was of any other empirical fact, as sure as he was that she enjoyed every moment of it.

"I was meaning to ask you something, actually." Her soft, elegant tones cut through the fog of unclear thoughts, of half-formed desires, fixing his attention solely upon her pale features once more. "Our last meeting left me...curious..." How she placed so much emphasis on that one word, drawn out with a slow, languorous breath, he did not know, but it sent cold shivers running down his spine regardless. She...was curious about him? What did that mean? And why did it seem to resonate so deeply within him, touching a place he knew to be far beyond the façade of cold rationality he had always maintained?

"Curious?" He repeated breathlessly, unable to formulate any other response.

"Yes" She nodded slowly, raising one hand to the honey-blonde strand of hair running down from her fringe. Her smile was different now, subtly so; even with his focus fixed so absolutely upon her he found himself doubting momentarily whether anything had changed at all. But there was more...a hint, lurking within the oh-so gentle curve of her lips, of something dark...something wild and untamed, directed, perhaps, toward him. It was so shocking, so enthralling that for a moment Stein found himself slowly drawing closer to her, pulled in by a force beyond her control. "Of course..." She breathed, her voice barely a whisper, meant for his ears alone. "You're a fascinating man, Stein..."

"What are you...?" Stein shook his head, struggling to clear it somewhat. The greater part of him seemed desperate to simply hang on to her every word, to consider ever so closely the implications lurking within her sultry tones. Focus...damnit, he wanted to raise a hand to grind against his forehead, to do something, anything, to force order over his fogged mind. But beneath that cool stare he found he dared not move, dared not show her any weakness, a highly irrational set of circumstances, considering he was absolutely certain she already knew just how off balance he was.

"You know what I mean, don't you?" She took one step toward him, closing the distance between them to almost nothing. Stein swallowed uneasily, his lips suddenly felt dry, his forehead slick with sweat. "You're Shibusen's strongest technician, you stand at the pinnacle of what this Academy can achieve, but there's more, isn't there, Stein? You're not like the others here, I knew that from the moment I first saw you."

"Nor are you..." The thought, voiced even as it rose from within that fog her presence inflicted upon him, might well have seemed strange, inaccurate even, had he merely been examining this from a rational point of view. She did, after all, seem nothing more than an ordinary woman. Her soul, glimpsed now through the lens of the Soul Perception abilities that came so easily to him, was just that, ordinary. It seemed to possess none of the potency of a technician, or indeed the unspoken malevolence of a witch or bloated menace of a pre-kishin. And yet...it fit, that simple statement, that she was not like any other here, on a level beyond the logical. The effect she had upon him, the direction his thoughts and desires took even now, seemed to better quantify that than any hard evidence ever could.

"Me?" She laughed lightly, a silvery sound that rang pleasantly in his ears, yet seemed all the more out of place for it. "I don't think so...I'm just the nurse after all. You must be mistaken, Doctor." She raised a hand to her chest, to the high neck of the sleek black dress she wore.

"I'm not" He leant in toward her, his voice coming cool and level, as if stating empirical fact, as though the statement were based upon absolute scientific proof. He smiled thinly, the harsh, white light of the corridor catching momentarily over the lenses of his glasses. Something had changed between them, he could see that now, he had placed her on the defensive for once, what would her reaction be? Eagerness rose within him in anticipation of her next move, but he suppressed it ruthlessly; now was the time for precision, he could not allow anything to spoil this rare opportunity.

"And what makes you so sure of that?" Her smile, remaining intact through all this, was perfect, her head was turned slightly to the left, her shoulders relaxed beneath the white coat she wore. In short, she had done everything possible to suggest that she was completely unfazed, but her eyes, that cool, amber gaze boring into his own, revealed something more. His statement, and now his apparent certainty about it, both had unsettled her, struck a chord within her, somewhere buried deep. A lesser man might have missed it, thought that nothing had changed at all, but Stein had always prided himself on his ability to read the body language of others, to pry their thoughts and motivations from the smallest of gestures, all in the interest of scientific curiosity of course. Yes...he was certain of his original conclusion, but that in itself revealed something perhaps even more interesting. She was clearly an expert herself in disguising her emotions, now...where would the simple nurse she claimed to be have learned a skill like that? He paused, stiffening slightly, realising that she had been staring at him this whole time, and quickly grasped for a suitable reply.

"I don't know...exactly" The first thing that came to mind, though inwardly he cursed himself for revealing that much. "Just a feeling, I guess..." He tried all he could to force more meaning into that phrase, tried to suggest somehow that he knew more than he was letting on, but even as the words left his lips he knew he had failed to convince her. She stepped back, her smile curling wider with satisfaction she didn't even bother trying to hide. Damn...he'd just lost whatever advantage he might have gained, and through nothing short of blind carelessness. Why had he not already had a reply prepared? How could he have been so stupid? Of course he already knew the answer...it was her, she unsettled everything, robbed him of the usual razor-edged precision his thoughts possessed.

"Please, Stein" She drew out his name in that slow, languorous manner which sent shivers of unfamiliar longing running down his spine. "We're both scientists, aren't we? We deal in facts, in hypotheses, not mere...feelings." She laced such contempt into that one word that Stein glanced away, feeling a stab of anguish in his chest. He wanted to prove himself against her, show her just how skilled a scientist he was, but now all she felt was contempt...how frustrating. Suddenly however, his gaze snapped back up to meet hers, olive-green eyes narrowing thoughtfully, what was it she had just said...?

"And now you tell me you're a scientist as well..." He crossed his arms over his chest, gazing down at her through his glasses. It was not so much that she thought of herself in such terms, interesting though that was, but the manner in which she had said it, drawn out significantly, as though to highlight the similarities it implied between them. "I recall you saying a few moments ago you were just the nurse, Medusa. Perhaps my instincts are a more valuable resource than you seem to think." Despite the implication heavy in his words, she didn't show the slightest sign of discomfort or surprise this time; her gaze, holding his, was perfectly composed, giving not a hint of what she truly felt away. He wondered momentarily just how much of that apparent mistake had been intentional, but why would she want him now to pry deeper into just who she was when doing so before had placed her so subtly on the defensive? What kind of game was she really playing here?

"Even a nurse can try her hand in other areas, Doctor, when the desire takes her." She replied smoothly. "Although..." Her gaze narrowed, that strange studying edge flickering anew within her amber eyes as they settled rather disconcertingly on the steel bolt driven through his temple. "I don't think I've ever had the chance to work on anything quite so fascinating before..." Stein stared at her, what little focus he had managed to regain reeling at the force of her words, and that of the cool, golden gaze behind them. Was it him she spoke of like that? Like some kind of experiment whose secrets she wished to see unlocked? Did she truly think of him in that way, as he thought of her?

Suddenly, glancing momentarily back down at her, he realised that while he had been so focused on unravelling whatever meaning lay behind that simple turn of phrase, she had taken the opportunity to step delicately forward once again. She now stood nearly against his chest, her neck craned to gaze up into his olive eyes, a smile of clear satisfaction on her pale features. He was suddenly, shockingly, aware of just how close the two of them had come...with barely any effort he could reach for her, lay a hand upon her shoulder and...his thoughts reeled at the possibilities.

He didn't move however, he didn't dare...not with his control balanced on a knife-edge as it was, not even as she stirred once more, raising a pale, slender hand towards him. He simply stood, his shoulders shuddering under the strain, his gaze following her every move, even as her hand slipped up to his cheek, her fingers drifting ever so effortlessly across the ragged, stitched scar running down from his forehead. His breath came hoarse and ragged, her touch seemed to sear across every nerve, her gaze boring into his, as cool and self-possessed as ever, even as he struggled to hopelessly for some semblance of control. Vaguely, abstractly, staring into those level amber eyes, he found himself recalling Spirit's words when the two of them had spoken last night. Cold...the scythe had called her, but right now Stein could see just how far that was from the truth. She was controlled...measured, even now, even as she ran her fingers through his loose, silver hair. But cold...no...her gaze burned now, with that same, wild desire he had observed earlier, her shoulders were tensed, as though she too longed for something more than just her hand upon his cheek. She kept it back though, kept herself under control, to a far greater extent then he himself could.

Then, at last, she drew back, letting her hand fall to her side. Her smile had faded, her gaze, flickering away from his to scan for a moment the stark, white walls of the corridor, was narrowed thoughtfully. For the briefest moment then Stein saw a flicker of confusion cross her pale features, a moment of uncertainty amongst her otherwise unshakeable focus. But even as he watched that moment fled, vanishing as quickly as it had settled over her before, and she turned to gaze coolly at him once more.

"Well, Doctor." She stepped back, slipping her hands back into the pockets of her lab-coat. "As...enjoyable as this has all been, I'm afraid my duty calls once again. It wouldn't do for the nurse to be away from her patients too long, now would it?" Stein shook his head numbly, his arms falling limply to his sides. In truth...he didn't want her to leave, well he was scarcely certain now exactly what he wanted, but he had come so close...why let this end now?

And yet...as things stood now, he wasn't sure he could trust himself to try and stop her. Her touch, that brief contact between her fingers and his cheek, had awakened a part of him he thought buried long ago, had ignited a flame of dark desire which even now simmered rebelliously within him, barely concealed by the thin veneer of calm he was trying so desperately to maintain. He wanted her, now, all her secrets, with an intensity beyond anything he had felt, beyond mere curiosity or scientific interest. What would it take, he wondered...to see those secrets laid bare before his studying gaze? Already he could imagine so many experiments, so many ways to pry them from her. A thin, hoarse breath escaped his lips as his fevered gaze leapt back up to meet hers, could he control this? Did he really want to?

Even as he tried to speak, tried to summon the words that would make her stay, just a little longer, she turned swiftly away, though not fast enough that he did not see the ghost of a satisfied smile upon her thin lips. He paused, his brow furrowing in confusion at the sight, could it be that she knew...? That this...this madness, was what she actually wanted from him? But before he could stop her, in that moment's confusion that glimpse of her had wrought, she stepped away, her white lab-coat rustling around her, slipping from his grasp.

Stein staggered back, clutching weakly at the cold, unforgiving stone of the passage wall, as she vanished silkily around a turn in the corridor just a few feet away. Of course he wanted to follow her...he yearned for it, but the shock of what he had just seen had been enough to banish, for now at least, the tide of desire she had awakened in him. How long had it been...? He'd thought this side of him, the insanity twinned to his genius, long since buried, cast aside in the decades of solitude he had inflicted upon himself in an attempt to control it. But now, with nothing more than a touch upon his scarred, pale cheek, she had loosed it, the madness.

Damnit...he reached feverishly inside the pocket of his labcoat, slipped a cigarette between his teeth, his jaw clenched so hard he could scarcely stop himself from snapping it in two between them. How close had he come...? Would he have hurt her...he'd already done far worse in the grip of his own twisted desires, long ago. This was dangerous, the calm, rational side informed him, too dangerous...he'd been walking on a knife's edge of control too long, she could upset the balance, and where would he be then? No...he could not do this again, he would have to avoid her, it was the only option. And yet, even as he told himself so, he felt the cold fingers of insanity drawn across his shuddering mind, would he be able to stop himself? She had struck him deep, in a manner he had never felt before, in a manner that sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine as he considered it. He'd repressed himself so long, chained his own mind so he could seem normal, seem sane, so he could walk down the Academy corridors without trying to rip apart any poor unfortunate he passed. But now that it had found an outlet, found her, after so long caged, would he be able to control it, control himself? His mind, the mind of a genius, honed and trained by years of study, could supply no answer, no answer save the thudding of his heart in his chest and the the painfully sweet remnant of her scent upon the air.


	5. Chapter 4

_Yes, I am actually back! I know it's been a hell of a long time since I last uploaded anything, I kind of stopped writing for a long time. Shame on me, right?_

_Apologies to anyone who's been waiting for this update, I hope it makes up at least a little bit for my long absence. Enjoy, and as it has been a while since I last wrote anything, it would be good to hear what you think. _

It was perfect…all of it, almost too perfect. His lips curling thoughtfully about the cigarette clenched between his taut lips, Stein glanced once more over the drab, black file open before him. His olive-green eyes were narrowed beneath the gleaming rims of his glasses as he studied every word with ferocious intent, as though trying to peel back the neat, cursive lettering to reveal the secrets locked within. Access to the personnel files of Academy staff, such as this one, was heavily restricted, but being known as Shibusen's strongest and most dangerous technician did have its perks. All he'd had to do was say that he was on Death's business, and the secretary had been all too willing to hand over the file pertaining to a certain Infirmary nurse.

He wasn't entirely sure at this point what he was actually looking for, only that all other avenues of research had been exhausted. His encounters with Medusa continued to be both dangerously appealing and intensely frustrating in equal measure, as time and time again he found himself unable to pin down the source of his attraction to her. Casual conversation on the subject with other staff and students had revealed even less. Everyone seemed to agree that she was kind and gentle, perfectly suited to the post of Infirmary nurse, but had little else to say. Certainly, no-one else had voiced anything remotely resembling his own suspicions, nor mentioned the almost flirtatious manner in which she had toyed with him in their interactions so far. One thing that the testimonies did share however, was that Medusa had proved to be remarkably evasive when it came to discussing her past. Well, he had learnt long ago that second-hand observations tended to be unreliable at best, relying solely on himself from this point on seemed the far better alternative. Now…if he could just find something obviously amiss in this file, something which could quantify the strangeness he had sensed about her from the first.

He thumbed the first entry curiously. Name…Medusa Gorgon, written with sharp elegance, every letter perfectly formed. A curious label for her parents to have bestowed upon her, referencing as it did the Greek myth of a woman so hideous she turned those who gazed upon her to stone. The Medusa he knew might be many things, but ugly was certainly not one of them. A part of him even wondered if he would have found it easier to resist his urges had she been less physically appealing. Her beauty did hold a certain, obvious appeal to the male psyche; he had only to observe Spirit's interactions with the nurse to understand that. Still, he was almost certain that his own reaction to her went deeper than the merely physical. After all, he had known attractive woman before, and none of them had ever had anything remotely resembling this effect upon them. No…it had to be something else…but what?

Her picture's unblinking gaze, from the photo clipped to the top of the page, seemed to follow his own as he scanned the rest of the information contained within the file, an enigmatic half-smile on her pale lips. Those eyes…they transfixed him every time the two of them met in the flesh, as though he were a rat caught before the enthralling stare of a hunting cobra. He was somehow sure the answer lay there, that if he could only catch her in an unguarded moment and stare into those cool yellow orbs he would know the truth at once. But, whatever his certainty, she was simply too well-prepared, her composure almost entirely unfailing. Any attempts to catch her off guard had done him no good so far. Choosing instead to consult her personnel file however, already seemed to be yielding its own benefits.

According to what he had read so far, everything about her seemed almost entirely ordinary. Education, qualifications, each was exactly what you might expect from a fairly intelligent nurse, almost as though it had been designed to be so. Perhaps to deflect attention and awkward questions from the circumstances that had led her, an ordinary human to take the unusual step of seeking employment at the Academy. He hovered momentarily over the possibility that he might simply being paranoid, seeing patterns where none really existed, but discarded it almost instantaneously. He had simply to recall what the effect she had on him to know that something was amiss, and this was simply further evidence to fuel that absolute certainty. There was, however, something else that drew his attention amongst the otherwise irrelevant data.

"An orphan, she says…no siblings either, apparently." He murmured softly to himself, chewing the cigarette clenched between his lips thoughtfully. That meant no weak links in the chain…no-one who could be sought out to question over the information she had given. His brow furrowed, pale fingers tracing her elegant, cursive script. What exactly was this woman playing at? Could this all truly be lies, a convenient mask to allow her unimpeded access to the Academy? But why…what was in it for? It was all just speculation…he had no proof, but it fit, damnit! And if it were true, if she'd deceived not only him, but the entire Academy, this had become a matter far beyond simply his own perverse curiosity!

He took a long, haggard breath, letting the acrid smoke of the cigarette settle in his lungs, a deeply soothing sensation. Calm…he had to be calm, for all he knew he was just jumping to wild conclusions again. And even if this…hunch was correct, he couldn't simply run off to Death and inform him that the Academy nurse was actually some kind of malevolent infiltrator in disguise, not without proof anyway. Yes…he needed more evidence, a probable motive for one thing, as well as something that would actually hold any water at all beyond his own feverish mind. Knowing her, both would be fiendishly difficult to acquire. She had already been subtle enough to slip into the Academy, as well as hide all this from anyone else so deftly, it would no doubt require all his investigative prowess, as well as several more in-depth observations of the subject to get any truth out of her. He relished the challenge.

Of course there was more, his motivations for hiding all this went far deeper than any fear of looking like a fool in front of Death, but Stein didn't like admitting that kind of thing to anyone, least of all himself. In the deepest corners of his twisted psyche however, he knew the truth of it, that it was his own dark possessive desires which would prevent him involving anyone else in this until it was absolutely necessary. She had always been his mystery and his alone. No-one was going to take from him the pleasure of slowly, agonisingly wrenching the truth from her, nor the final, delicious satisfaction of looking down on her knowing that he had won. And, here he smiled chillingly at the thought, once all of it was done, she would be his and his alone to deal with.

As he leant forward to lay a pale hand on top of the file however, meaning to take a closer look at the rest of the information it contained, he heard the door suddenly swing open behind him. He stiffened instantly, as the polished tread of expensive leather shoes rang out over the threshold, a sound he knew all too well. Spirit…

"What are you up to locked up in here all alone, Stein?" The Death Scythe said amiably as he stepped up behind his former partner. "Or do I even want an answer to that question?" There was a moment's absolute stillness, as Stein stood stiffly, hunched forward over the desk. His one hand hovered protectively over the documents spread out before him, the other was inching ever so slowly towards the inside pocket of his lab-coat, fingers twitching in anticipation. Then, he seemed to pause. His face, hidden from Spirit, twisted momentarily into a determined snarl, looking for all the world as though he were holding back some titanic force. It only seemed to last an instant however, and as Spirit watched obliviously, tapping his foot impatiently against the cold marble floor, Stein straightened once more, drawing himself back to his full height, all trace of that moment's strain vanished entirely.

"Nothing particularly important, Spirit…" He replied slowly, slipping his hand back into the pocket of his lab-coat. He turned to face his former weapon, his olive-green eyes entirely expressionless behind his glasses.

"That's good…" Spirit didn't seem at all fazed by the complete lack of emotion in his former partner, no doubt he had grown used to Stein's little idiosyncrasies over their time as partners. "I've been looking for you everywhere, Death wants a little chat with both of us."

"Does he now?" Stein leant back, taking a deep draught of the cigarette between his lips. How annoying…first Spirit's untimely intervention, now this. If only he didn't force himself to respect Death's orders so much, he might be able to enjoy himself a little more. Ah well…Medusa would have to wait, after all she wasn't going to slither off any time soon, at least not while he had his eye on her.

"Hey, Stein…" His gaze snapped back to Spirit as the Death Scythe suddenly spoke again, an odd urgency to his voice that was very much unlike his usual laid-back nature. "What's that on the table behind you?" Damnit…Stein tensed, a strange and deeply alarming chill settling in the base of his stomach. He couldn't let…Spirit of all people see what he was doing. Based on previous observations, he had a fairly good idea that the scythe would take a dim view of his plans. What if Spirit told Death, spoiled everything…he couldn't let that happen. As Spirit craned his neck, struggling to see past him, Stein shifted uneasily. But what could he do? "Is that…Medusa Gorgon's file?" Spirit said at last, sounding frankly horrified at the realisation. He lowered his head, his dark green eyes burning with that self-righteous disgust Stein had always despised, the sort the scythe brought out whenever he disturbed key experiments. "You asked about her earlier, when you came to my house, didn't you. What exactly is going on here, Stein?"

"As I said, nothing of any importance to you…" Stein replied icily, shielding the open file with one hand. What did Spirit have to complain about? He wasn't actually cutting anything open for once. But the Death Scythe always seemed to be whining about this or that…it was all very annoying.

"Stop acting like I don't know what you are, Stein." Spirit shook his head, tossing his long red hair with irritation. You don't, Stein thought savagely, you just think you do. "You can't help yourself, I get that…" The scythe continued blindly, venom clear in every word. "But don't think for one second that means I'm going to stand by and let you do anything to her." Playing the hero again, Spirit…it was all so easy for him, wasn't it? Stein felt his irritation spike once again, his mood growing darker with each passing moment.

"And you really think you could stop me?" Maybe his words weren't the best chosen for this situation. Maybe he should have just stepped back and pretended that Spirit's threats had had the desired effect, promise the scythe as he had so many times before that he wouldn't do it again. But somehow, after so many years of pretence, he found he was tired of it. Tired of pretending that he actually cared when Spirit spoke to him like this, tired of acting like he didn't want to hurt his former partner just because they were supposedly friends. But most of all, he was tired of forcing himself not to draw the scalpel hidden in the inner pocket of his lab-coat and getting down to finding out just what really lay behind Spirit's tedious sermonising, anatomically speaking.

As Spirit stumbled back, clearly shocked at the dangerous gleam in his former partner's eyes, Stein suddenly found himself fully aware of the perilous direction his thoughts had taken. He could already almost feel the cold steel of the scalpel between his fingers, the hot flush of blood as he made that long awaited first incision. His fingers twitched, begging him to turn that dream into beautiful reality. In that moment he knew just how close he was to the brink, to breaking the unwanted morality he had long ago resolved to impose upon himself, a pathetic facsimile cobbled together from observations of supposed moral behaviour. It was alien…it was wrong in his mind, constricting, limiting everything in a cage not of his own devising, but it was all he had. If he let it go now, broke it in the very heart of Shibusen for a moment's perverse pleasure, he would be lost. Death would deem him a threat to order, as had once been promised, and he would be hunted down and killed. What was worse, he probably wouldn't even care…

Damnit…he had to leave now, the room suddenly felt suffocatingly small, as though the walls were closing in around him. His fingers convulsed in the pockets of his lab-coat, his jaw locked tight, teeth grinding together. He couldn't stay here, not with Spirit in front of him and Medusa's file behind. Not trusting himself to say another word to the shocked Death Scythe, he stepped stiffly forward, only to shudder to a halt as Spirit raised a hand and laid it gingerly on his shoulder as he tried to pass.

"You do know, Stein…that I'm just trying to help you, right?" The Death Scythe would have sounded a hell of a lot more nervous than he already did if he understood how close he'd just come to having his hand severed at the wrist.

"I don't need your help…" His voice came cracked and bitter, like that of a man decades older. In truth that was how he felt, tired and disillusioned, his own weakness and his festering anger at Spirit a toxic cocktail that seemed only to exhaust him. With that, he shrugged the scythe's hand from his shoulder, and forced himself to walk away. For a moment then it looked as though Spirit might follow his former partner, that there was more he felt like he should say, but even as Stein stepped out into the corridor, his shoulders hunched over beneath the lab-coat, the Death Scythe sighed, shaking his head slowly with clear disappointment. He had tried to understand Franken Stein for nearly thirty years now, but still it seemed like he was no closer than when they had first met that fateful day on the steps of the Academy. All he could do was try and head off trouble before it happened, stop his former partner before this went out of hand, for his own good of course, though Stein would never see it that way. He'd talk to Death himself, see what could be done, and maybe it was time he paid Medusa Gorgon another visit as well…


End file.
